Another Night in Roanapur
by dvlkyzr
Summary: A short story in the lawless city spinning off not long after the Lagoon Company survived the EO's assault.


Lit dimly by the neon signs placed along the sides of the flanking rows of shops, the back alley was void of any signs of life. The ambient traffic noises that echoed through the city night were clear enough, further emphasizing the placidity of this quiet little corner.

Taking advantage of the lull atmosphere, a pair of cautious eyes twinkled excitedly in the shadows under a pile of junk, carefully observing the surroundings before slowly emerging out of its hiding place. The stray cat had settled - in minimal, yet adequate comfort - in this shabby little alley for weeks, snacking off the leftovers and garbage left out by humans while enjoying domination of this area from rival felines.

Perfect for another night's plunder. Still slightly wet even after grooming itself from the short night shower, the cat waded across oil-coated puddles formed by decade-old potholes, searching for a decent meal to satiate its hunger for the night.

Prowling from garbage bins to refuse piles, its sharp nose finally caught the fresh odor of something delicious - some leftover food wasted by those i humans, packed in one of the bins behind one of the restaurants. After making sure there were no signs of any potential disturbance, it leaped on to the bin and clawed its way into the plastic bag, where the aroma of lukewarm food was the strongest.

Just as the cat was about to begin its feast, a startling series of explosions and gunfire began to whirl up from the other side of the shops, and with ears stood up its body retracted into a stance of alert as the noises drew even closer and louder. True to its hunch, the rust-covered iron door accessing the restaurant's kitchen flew open with a sudden, and the cat vaulted off the bin reflexively. It scrambled into the nearest cover it could find, glancing out cautiously from its hiding spot to see what was going on.

A woman in her twenties - sporting a ponytail, a pair of shoulder holsters complementing the practicality of her simple tank-top and shorts - darted out from the door facing backwards, both her arms outstretched and pointed towards the door, a flurry of flashes and cracks erupting continuously from the pistols both her gloved hands were wielding. Catapulting out from the doorway her body broke into a roll as she hit the ground, barely avoiding the oily puddle a couple of inches away from the soles of her boots.

More screams - mixture of rage and of pain - came from the inside of the restaurant, as more gunshots volleyed through the doorway. Though all the shots missed the woman badly, the projectiles sporadically hitting on the wall behind her or ricocheting off the grills covering the windows. Recovering from her tumbling the woman let off a devilish smirk across her face, raised her right pistol to continue shooting and suppressing her assailants inside, while her left holstered the other pistol and subsequently reached for the sling pouch dangling from her shoulder, retrieving a M2 fragmentation grenade out of it. As she finished the last round of the clip, with her teeth she jerked the safety pin off the grenade and chucked the explosive into the kitchen.

The grenade bounced off one of the kitchen stoves before dropping to the floor, the ominous thud causing a streak of panic screams in the kitchen before detonating shrapnel hell onto whoever was unfortunate to be present. Then without even looking back to observe the damage done, the woman swiftly ran down the alley and disappeared into the darkness of the moonless night.

"Roanapur EFM bringing you the latest newsflash. A gunfight has broke off in a local restaurant down Pattriyam Street 7 pm today. Initial investigations report that a car bomb explosion triggered the shootout between two rival gangs. The police are still-", the car radio croaked a little as it was abruptly powered down by a dark-skinned hand.

"She's late." The black man riding shotgun dipped his cigarette off the car window as he exhaled a breath of smoke. "A hooker wouldn't even take that long just for makeup."

"Well Dutch, that's Revy we're talking 'bout," chuckled the blond man in spectacles behind the wheel next to him. "Just can't get across the whole Sondhip sector without setting up the fireworks. Chief Watsup's gonna need the extra caffeine tonight."

"Then let's hope she doesn't draw the whole bushfire to us, Benny-boy. I'm definitely not looking forward to be invited by him to a coffee break." As he spoke, Dutch stole a glance into the overhead mirror. There sitting quietly in the rear seat, dressed in a short-sleeved dress shirt with a tie, was the Japanese ex-blue collar that had somehow decided to tag along with their little party.

It hadn't been long since Rock had made his stay here, so it was natural that he was still struggling to accustom himself with the crime-infested world of Roanapur. And all the idle waiting had obviously drove him into a state of anxiety, for in between every minute he was subconsciously adjusting his tie, and even more intensely so after listening to the news off the local English radio channel not long ago.

But as nervous as he was, his eyes were telling a totally different tale - unfazed and certain, one could easily tell of the resolution that was glittering wildly within, anticipating the direction determinedly of where Revy was likely to turn up from, like a child waiting in bed for Santa to come. The same pair of eyes that had once flickered with wild fire when he made his bet on his plan the first time he got involved with the Lagoon Company.

Dutch let off a brief smile over what he saw. There's still a long way to go for this guy, but remembering the moment how crazy he was when he first met this timid fellow, perhaps Rock could probably last long enough to see another few more sunsets.

She had been running around the streets for at least fifteen minutes by now, but every route that Revy had gone through thus far were packed with members of the Rouge Sons that were pursuing her. Given that she's on foot and the Sons on wheels, the possibility of her getting out of the place unscathed had greatly reduced - if this wasn't a job from Hotel Moscow she wouldn't have given a rat's bunghole about it in the first place.

It was supposed to be a simple sneak-in-smuggle-out scenario - she was tasked to retrieve a package for Big Sis Balalaika. The Rouge Sons - ex-Khmer Rouge asylum-seekers who fled here to Roanapur and started to make their foothold here - had murdered the original couriers delivering the package to the Russian mafia and claimed it under their possession. She wasn't informed about what the package contained, but she'd bet her pack of cigarettes by judging the way the Khmer boys were so desperate to even dare offend the Ruskies, it must have cost quite a few million bucks in the black market.

Although the job sounds risky, but she preferred to deal with the infiltrating all alone- for the whole Lagoon Company to be present would definitely attract unnecessary attention. With Dutch and Benny being non-Asians they stuck out like sore thumbs in the crowd, and the new kid Rock is, true to his nickname, stiff as the real deal and would probably sunk into the South China Sea before he could even start. No partner, no backup, just her skills as a thief and a getaway car waiting for her at a safe location. Her favorite modus operandi.

But of course, experience had taught her that rarely things would stick with the original plan. What the Lagoon Company didn't manage to take into account that day - this was probably Dutch's screw-up for failing to catch the wind off the local bartender, Bao - was that the Rouge Sons themselves would be attacked by another group hostile to them - the Blue Dragons, descendants of South Vietnamese refugees from the Vietnam War who had formed a group themselves in the neighboring fishing town of Ludchang. And they just had to sack the place with a surprise raid, exactly the moment when she was about to get away with the package without anyone noticing her.

So now in the whole confusion, in the wrong place and the wrong time, it goes without saying that the Rouge Sons who found her in their headquarters stealing had assumed that she was an accomplice of the Blue Dragons and gave chase after her. Though for the very least, this just made the whole job to her way less boring - for how fun would it be if there's no risk to wager her life on? By her book, nothing could excite her more than an orgasmic flow of adrenaline rush.

A crack off the wall next to her indicated that her pursuers are right behind her again. Quickly she dodged into the entrance of the dark alleyway between the shops to her right, disappearing into the veil of the night once more as the pursuing Rouge Sons started pouring another bullet storm right behind her.

From the distance the never-ending gunfire and various noises of attempted manslaughter had been going on for quite a while now, yet there still wasn't any sign of the black-haired gunslinger girl the tiny party had been waiting for. The trio had been listening quietly to the chaos unfolding around the area, the atmosphere unnerving similar to a German U-boat trying to cruise through a fleet of warships in the middle of a sub hunt.

"Here. Smoke's my treat." Dutch's sudden offer had interrupted the tension Rock was struggling within himself. "It's better than trying to choke yourself to death with that necktie of yours.

Snapping back into reality, Rock finally realized how tight the tie was clamping around his collar and felt awkward for not noticing it. Loosening it, he took the cigarette off Dutch's hand and fumbled in his pockets for his lighter. All the pressure had took its toll on him, as he had to take a couple more flicks than usual to get the cigarette lit.

As he took his first puff, the smoke slightly clouding his vision in a trance-like manner, the images of his first encounter with the Lagoon Company ran through his mind like an old-school movie film in fading colors. The outrageous conspiracy he had to go through with his former employers, the insanity of the factions that had played their hand, and the crazy ride he went through barely while escaping death. He had given up returning to Japan after the whole fiasco, refusing to go back to the hell he had once thought was his home, sanctuary and heaven. In the eyes of the rest of the world, he was already dead.

Instead, he had chose to live in this other side of hell that's probably going to chew him up and spit his bones to dry in the street drains sooner or later. But at least, this hell wasn't pretending that it was heaven, and he had to pretend no more to blend around. Yes, he felt quite alive, much more than before. He had never thought of how fragile and precious his life was, as he had never considered the possibility of death looming so close around him.

Though still, as he concluded his thoughts before surrendering himself into his own smoking stupor, it's anytime better to be alive in a city of death than to be dying in a city of the living.

The Rouge Sons definitely aren't just messing around, as they are still hot on Revy's heels even after following her through the labyrinth of alleys and even crossing the busy main streets more than a couple of times. She had thrown most of the guys off her trail - a feat she had little trouble pulling off - but the remaining members were still persistent to take her down, pressing on the chase even though they had already caused quite a tremendous amount of collateral damage to the sector - and perhaps, even to their own ranks. The package she had snagged must have cost quite a fortune, or perhaps of great importance to resort to such desperate measures from the Sons - and of course, Balalaika herself - to reclaim it.

She had thinned out most of the waves who were pursuing her, and started to make her way to the rendezvous point - and of course, attempting to throw the remaining force that's still chasing her off her trail before escaping to the car. Another opportunity rose as she swiftly cut into a corner of the alley branching off the path - feinting her escape, she turned around and fired a barrage of rounds to where her assailants were while catching them off guard. Gunning one down and forcing the other three to dodge for cover had bought her some precious time, which she took the chance to jump on top of one of the garbage dumps in the alley before grabbing onto the railing of the emergency staircase on top of it. Then quickly as she could, she climbed onto the staircase and crashed into the nearest window before her, the shots of her assailants ricocheting off the metal and wooden surfaces and the screams of the occupants - a fat bald guy and a young girl, which Revy immediately recognized as under-aged - surprised and naked on the bed shrieking in the air.

Ignoring the shrills of the illicit couple Revy darted for the door which led to the only set of stairways of the building, and already there were angry shouts and stomping of boots making their way up from the bottom. She trained her sights towards the stairway leading below and waited, spotting the first figure rushing in she finished the remaining rounds in the clips of both her Cutlass Specials into the poor sod, then took the opportunity out of the chaos to run all the way up to the floors above.

Breaching through the rotten wooden door to the rooftops without much effort, Revy took a quick glance of her surroundings to determine her current position in the city. She recognized that she was close to where the rendezvous point was - Dutch and the boys were waiting for her in the 1969 Dodge Coronet R/T that's supposed to warrant her speedy escape. The only catch was that they were behind the row of shops just across the one where she's standing, and there was no safe way to get there except to turn back and facing her pursuers surrounding the shops from all sides. Would have been a good choice if she wasn't down to her last two magazines.

No time for her to reconsider another option - the angry screams from the stairway were getting louder and clearer as the second spent on her sliver of thoughts ticked through. Facing the direction of the rendezvous point she strode a few steps back, took a deep breath, and sprinted as much as she could to the edge of the building. As she reached the last room for the running jump she was about to attempt, he focused all her might into her jumping leg, along with a shattering scream mixed with adrenaline, excitement and the notion to escape death once more.

CLANG. She had barely cleared the leap making to the second floor of the building and, as her torso slammed hard onto the railing of the balcony, an intense wave of pain spread across every part of her body. Gritting her teeth she quickly strengthen her grip on the side of the railing - as losing it now would definitely be fatal - and quickly pulled herself from the outer side of the balcony right into it. She choked and coughed as she struggled to catch a breath and rolled on the floor in pain, then desperately scrambled into the room the balcony extended from, taking cover from the firing from the gunmen still stranded on the building she previously was. Cursing under her struggling breath she tried to get on to her feet, which were still wobbly after that insane leap. With the aid of the wall beside her she managed to stand up, her first couple of steps less impressive than a newborn fawn's, and limped her way to the exit of the room.

Rats, she swore as the other side of the wooden door was a retractable folding metal door with the padlocks facing outwards, which would be impossible to break through even if she were to disable them with her pistols. She desperately hobbled all the way to the other window opposite the one she came in from, reloading her pistols as she gradually recovered her regular gait. Opening the window she was greeted by a whiff of salty breeze, and there was a piece of linen awning stretching out just right below the window. The street was still void of any the Rouge Son's thugs, and without a moment's hesitation she climbed through the window and slid down the awning.

THUMP. The sudden sound of significant weight landing on the top of the Dodge, startling Rock like a Marine fresh from boot camp taking cover under a Vietcong artillery barrage.

"Can you pick another better way to make your appearance other than landing on the roof?" Benny protested as Revy clambered down the top of the car and entered through the door next to the only vacant seat in the car.

"Can't help it. Didn't know you guys were camping right below this comfortable piece of shade here." Revy replied as she squeezed herself in and slammed the door shut, casting a nasty glare at Rock just to watch him feel uncomfortable about her, before surrendering herself onto the car seat trying to soothe the waves of pain still lingering within her.

"Got the package?" Dutch asked coolly, throwing the butt of his cigarette out of the window. Revy brought up the sling pouch and waved it through the mirror Dutch was looking at, and he chuckled, "Boy, that took you quite a while. Maybe being out of 27th Precinct too long had made you rusty."

"Are we gonna move or not Benny? This place is going to turn into the Alamo if we stayed here long enough." Trying to ignore the tease and the now-overwhelming pain, Revy snapped sharply between her intensive breathing as the rumbling sounds of motor vehicles drew closer to them.

"Just making sure all passengers have their safety belts buckled." retorted Benny as he turned on the ignition, shifted the parking brakes and transmission into place, and jammed his feet on the gas as they make their way to Hotel Moscow.


End file.
